Manifestos Welcome
by Reflection Muse
Summary: These are my Anders one-shots for the BSN Anders prompt group. All shorts are based on the Dragon Age 2 canon, but are within the same universe as my story Redemption. Anders will always be the focus, but other characters may make apperances.
1. The Cost of Justice

_A/N: This is where I will be posting my one-shot entries for the Anders Prompt Group 'Manifestos Welcome' on the BioWare Social Network._ _All one-shots will include Anders, but may include other characters as well._ _These do take place in the same universe as my story **Redemption**; this specific one takes place immediately before chapter 1. I should mention that my chosen writing technique may drastically vary from one short to the next, and may not always be the same as what I use in **Redemption**. As always reviews are very welcome!  
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_This week's prompt is "Silence."_

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><p><em><strong>The Cost of Justice<strong>_

My voice was taken away long ago, simply for being born what I am. _A mage._ To _them_, an abomination. Something to be broken, abused, bound and caged. _Not a man._ They muzzle what they fear. Turn a blind eye. Clap righteous hands over their ears.

I was once defiant, _proud_. A spirit refusing to broken. Body beaten into submission. Time and again forced into solitude where no one could hear. No one could see.

Freedom was an illusion. Hope was a weakness. Something always out of my reach. Something not for me. Not for _my kind_.

But now…_now_ I am more a prisoner than I ever was then. This permanency is the price. Bound to a solitary confinement within. This perfect cage of my own making.

To be silenced from within. Controlled, trapped, unable to speak. It's _maddening_. This is my reality. This is a _true_ prison. I no longer know who—_or what_—I am. I no longer know how to escape.

I once dreamt of beautiful things. Bright and colorful things. Things that breathed. That _sang_. Now, the rare dreams that do come are shattered, disquieting things that leave me hollow, disoriented, and sick when I wake. There is no color. No music. No laughter. No sound.

These people. To them, I am a _person_. They freely offer me aid. Unconditionally, gift their friendship. Their _loyalty_. I yearn to accept it. To ask for it. _Please…help…me._ I know they want to help. But I'm weak. I can't find my voice. I suffer in silence.

She's here again. She's hurt. Angry. _Maker, she's crying._ Begging me for the truth. Every time I hold back, but cannot tell her why, I see her breaking._ It destroys me._ The truth will change nothing. It will not further our cause. It will only condemn her to my damned fate. What I must do comes with a price I won't see her, or anyone else, pay. So I swallow the truth. I quell these undisclosed desires. Armor myself in my convictions. My purpose. _It's better this way._

I'm so lost. So conflicted. I want love. Friendship. Companionship. But those are luxuries I can't have. Not anymore. I can't tell them. My silence will protect them—_protect_ _her—_if it's the last good thing I do.

She stirs things deep within me. Hopeful things. Things that bleed. That _want_. That _need_. With her, _through her_, I could have a voice again. I could break this silence. But how can I ask that of her, or _anyone?_

It's happening again. I try to cry out, beg for someone to stop me. _Please stop me._ I feel the panicked screams building within me, but they're strangled out in my throat before they can be let loose. Bodies break and fall around me. Their lifeless eyes judge me—_accuse me_—for what I am and what I've done. I look down at the warm blood on my hands. I no longer know who it belongs to or how it got there. I'm not sure it even matters anymore. It's already done.

I can't say what she needs to hear. _I love you._ She's suffering but fighting to be strong. _I need you._ I see the pain in her eyes. _Please don't look at me like that._ She turns to walk away again and I reach out. I want to call her name, _tell her_, but I say nothing.

I am a catalyst. A flame burning too hot, too bright, consuming myself from the inside out. This is how it begins. _And how I end. _I see the destruction—_the death_—at my hands. So many innocent lives snuffed out. This is wrong, _so wrong_. My mouth stretches opens to wail, to mourn what I have done. But no sound comes. It is a release I am denied.

The dawning realization of betrayal is written all over their faces. The guilt is suffocating. I long to ask—_to beg_—for forgiveness. But I can't. Or I _won't._ It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing I say will change the events that have begun. I hold my tongue and accept the price.

In my fight for freedom, for hope, I have sundered what little of _me_ is left.

Broken. _I am beyond repair._

Silenced. _I have lost my voice._

Bound. _I have traded one prison for another._

My life and freedom are forfeit in exchange for this judgment.

_This is the cost of justice_.


	2. The Mage's Ballad

_A/N: This is a one-shot entry for the Anders Prompt Group 'Manifestos Welcome' on the BioWare Social Network._ _All of my one-shots take place in the same universe as my story **Redemption**. _This specific one includes Anders, Hawke, Isabela, and Varric, and takes place between Acts 2 and 3 in Dragon Age 2._ As always reviews are very welcome!  
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_This week's prompt is "song fic."_

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><p><em><strong>The Mage's Ballad<strong>_

Kirkwall's healer was in rare form tonight. No one was _entirely_ sure how it had come to pass, but Justice had conceded, presumably after a fair bit of the usual resistance, to allow Anders a _few_ drinks. The Fade Spirit, for all his years living in this world, was still woefully naive about some things. These things clearly included the finer points of the human body's varying levels of substance tolerance (or lack thereof in this case). Anders on the other hand? Oh, he knew. Though he would vehemently deny it the next day, among other things, his intent was hardly innocent. What Justice hadn't taken into consideration was that a _few_ drinks at the Hanged Man were more than what Anders needed these days to reach a very jovial, boisterous, _drunken_ state—the very state he was in now—shameless, completely inebriated, and _singing_ at the top of his lungs.

Anders had a decent baritone singing voice when he tried, but what he was doing _right now_ could barely be called singing. Hawke's mabari apparently agreed and was baying along with the mage, adding to the pure comedy of the scene. Hawke, Isabela, and Varric weren't making matters any better—they egged Anders on from around the table with rowdy hoots, cheers, and loud clapping. Anders had, after several failed attempts, managed to climb atop one of the tavern's wooden tables and was howling a ballad from his perch with the grace and poise of a sloshed sailor. With each raucous line sung through the lopsided grin plastered on his flushed face, Anders made sweeping gestures with his arms. He swayed to and fro, wobbling out of balance with every exaggerated flourish. Hawke occasionally grabbed his ankles just in time to steady him, despite Isabela's shameless attempts to push him over.

Anders cleared his throat into his fist. "I dedicate this one to my _best friend_. The best friend a mage could ever have," Anders' words slurred together and he bowed theatrically at the waist, nearly toppling over again.

_Starry eves under swelled autumn moon,  
>Countless times we spent.<br>Together in the darkness,  
>Like twin shadows we went.<em>

_Noble, loyal, and fiercely brave,  
>You never judged or questioned me.<br>You always listened, accepted, and stayed;  
>Loving you was so easy. <em>

Varric nudged Hawke and winked at her. Hawke beamed and gazed up at Anders with rapt attention, her heart swelling with pride. She'd never had anyone sing a song about her before. She was thoroughly enjoying the experience, and drinking in every word.

_I still remember the day we first met,  
>And what an inseparable pair we fast became.<br>You were my best friend, then. My only friend.  
>Though you rarely answered to your name.<em>

Hawke and Varric exchanged puzzled glances and Isabela tittered beside them. Hawke shrugged, though she was more than a little confused. When had she not answered to her name?

_Two lone souls in the world were we,  
>Fleeing capture and poverty,<br>Forging a better future for all,  
>Bound by our mutual need and call.<br>Two lone souls in the world were we,  
>And now at least one of us is free.<em>

_With you I shared my meager meals,  
>Though you always stole the best cuts of meat.<br>We warmed each other on chilled, lonely nights;  
>At your side, I could conquer any plight.<em>

Hawke arched a brow and crossed her arms, her lips pressed together in a thin line. She was starting to think Anders' song _wasn't_ about her after all. But if not her, who? Some past lover? Jealousy pricked at her chest.

_No matter how dire the odds or frightening our foes,  
>Such a fearless and formidable ally you were.<br>I miss the way you'd curl up against me,  
>And how I could always make you purr.<em>

Isabela's amber eyes grew wide with piqued interest, a grin spread across her lips. "Ooooo, purring. _Now_ we're getting somewhere!" Hawke wanted to elbow her in the ribs. _Hard._

_I often wonder if I'll ever see you again,  
>Though it's such an unlikely dream.<br>I wonder how you are, my dear friend,  
>And if you still have an insatiable taste for cream.<em>

_You were always there, through thick and thin,  
>And unquestioningly gave me my space.<br>You always loved when I tickled your fuzzy chin,  
>And your favorite sleeping place was my face.<em>

_Two lone souls in the world were we,  
>Fleeing capture and poverty,<br>Forging a better future for all,  
>Bound by our mutual need and call.<br>Two lone souls in the world were we,  
>I sure do miss you, kitty!<em>

The dawning realization of exactly _who_ the song was about hit Varric, Hawke, and Isabela all at once. They simultaneously erupted in hysterical laughter. Anders bowed again with a goofy grin on his face, and lost his balance. The mage toppled head over heels off the table, right on top of the others. Lost to fits of drunken giggling, the four friends sat on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, happy for a chance to forget their troubles.

Varric laughed and clapped the mage on the shoulder. "We really need to get you another cat, Blondie."


End file.
